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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22883338">keep the faith</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/rottenhour/pseuds/rottenhour'>rottenhour</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Venom (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Anxiety, Family Loss, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Sharing a Body, Trust Issues</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 10:14:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,967</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22883338</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/rottenhour/pseuds/rottenhour</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>For once, Eddie is held too tightly in a grasp. But in his Other’s grasp, it feels like safety.</p><p>It feels like a home.</p><p> </p><p>A collection of soft symbrock for Symbruary</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eddie Brock/Venom Symbiote</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>69</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Day 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This doesn't settle in any particular spot within comic canon; feel free to interpret this anywhere from after Planet of the Symbiotes, The Hunger 1996, or the start of Mike Costa's 2016 run. </p><p>//Warnings: Horribly unbeta’d</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This doesn't settle within any particular spot in comic canon; feel free to intrepret this anywhere from after Planets of the Symbiotes, The Hunger 1996, or the start of Mike Costa's 2016 run. </p><p>///Warnings: Horribly unbeta'd</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They’re <i>back</i>. </p>
<p>Where the symbiote is sore and hurt, Eddie’s deep laughter balms the lingering ache as they swing, leap, and catapult from building to building; bellies full, no shame or fear to slink away in the shadows tethering them down. The other feels weightless, unfettered and free, and the landscape blurs into a cascade of scents, sounds, and sensations. It’s a joyous, heady feedback loop; they are one, they are <i>Venom</i> again, and for the remainder of the night, they accept the inundation until there is no beginning or end to their bodies. </p>
<p>Hours later, in all the excitement, the symbiote can feel the stirring of exhaustion from their other half. Just before dawn, Venom slinks inside the window of their tiny apartment, barely illuminated by soft city lights. The space is somewhat of an organized chaos; an unmade bed with sheets strewn about, a cluttered desk littered with papers and books and pens, vacant and empty walls. It’s a stark contrast to the symphony of life and warmth from within them, blossoming and painting vibrant color to their dark, lonely corners. </p>
<p>The Other slowly uncoils its mass down to Eddie’s torso, but retains control and shuffles his laden legs over to his mattress. With no resistance to his limbs, he lets it move him. The Other is abuzz, unsure what to do with itself, and settles to savor the natural, perfect respite. </p>
<p>Eddie agrees with a tired nod and grin, “Simply sublime, I take it you had a good time?”</p>
<p>It involuntarily gives him a squeeze in return. </p>
<p>After rebonding, it feels like all they can do is revel in their connection, falling back through layers of familiar comfort and security and touch after so long without them. Their period of separation without each other, and the emotional prostration which came attached, seems to all fall away, just for the moment, and what’s left in the wake morphs into a feeling less cold and outcast.  </p>
<p>The Other positively <i>flows</i>; expanding with goodness and delicious happiness in the confines of its host. Even after having Eddie twice again, the energy is akin to something new and vital.  Desperately, it clings. </p>
<p>Unconsciously, Eddie’s body responds to the symbiote’s restlessness, and answers with a heart beating more rapidly, his lungs emptying and inflating as if there isn’t enough air in the room to fill him. Like a well, the affection fills and fills and then spills over, until its enveloped in the upswell of overwhelming emotions. It’s terrifying and exhilarating, and the pressure is increasingly uncomfortable.</p>
<p>Eddie grimaces from sharp jolt of pain which surprises them both, and his hand comes up to rub at the raw spot across his ribs where the symbiote is latched a bit too tightly from the inside.</p>
<p>A bruise blooms angry and red above his abdomen. </p>
<p>Startled, it immediately twists within his chest cavity, steading the erratic pulse and healing the already fading injury. The electricity in the symbiote dampens while it nervously inspects Eddie’s other vital organs.</p>
<p>Rousing on instinct to hide and flee, it guiltily sinks into itself, wallowing down the inferno of its elation. Rejection and regret stems, even in its silence.</p>
<p>It shies away instantly, anticipating judgement. But no matter where it looks, it finds none. </p>
<p>Instead, Eddie chuckles, his face clear and forgiving, “Oh darling, never be sorry for what you feel.” There’s tension in Eddie’s posture, but a patient smile is in the corners of his eyes, “it hurts when you pull away from me.”</p>
<p>“Let me see you,” Eddie gestures softly, and it shivers to lock itself away irretrievably. </p>
<p>“It’s quite alright, come out. Can I see you?”</p>
<p>Following an uncomfortable subsequent amount of time, it hesitantly billows and coalesces a tangible head with two milky eyes, just how it knows Eddie likes. It hovers slightly afar, tentative, its form rippling as it tries to calm its uncertainty and apprehension. It doesn’t know how to approach him, so it makes an apologetic sound. </p>
<p>The Other looks into blue eyes ringed with fatigue, yet sparkling with hope and restraint, all mixing. </p>
<p>“It’s OK,” Eddie is the first to reach out, fingertips warm against its mandible, rubbing in soothing, slow circles, and it deflates somewhat underneath the touch. He repeats, firmly, “it’s OK, I’ve got you. Just as I take comfort from you, I can give it back. Talk to me, please?”</p>
<p>The symbiote shudders but Eddie remains resolved, his expression lessening, wanting his other to understand that it’s his turn to reassure and offer careful handling, “I know you’re sorry, but I should also apologize to you. For making you feel this way, for renouncing what we had created together.”</p>
<p>A question breaks wordlessly; the symbiote’s frozen stare fixates on the vulnerability and every depth of devotion etched in Eddie’s face. In its doubt, he speaks with even more conviction.</p>
<p>“I trust you. I trust you with my body. <i>Implicitly</i>. No one has ever…touched me the way that you do.”</p>
<p>He holds its gaze steadily, pauses, and moves them closer. His words hang pregnant in the air and it feels as though its burning, so much of the icy anxiety melting away under the heat of his conflagration.</p>
<p>“I want you to be able to trust me. Our bond, our oath…I want you to trust that I’m not leaving you. And to realize, as well as I do, that the part of myself I fear is not for my body, but for my heart. I don’t wish for us to live and love in fear.”</p>
<p>The Other agrees easily, fervently. What it can’t convey in words, it illustrates with their trillion shared nerves, welling contentment in his brain as if brightening an unlit room.</p>
<p>“I’m <i>glad</i> you’re here,” Eddie clarifies, then hums, “I missed you.” </p>
<p>Eddie reaches out to it, expectant, and it closes any distance between them, wrapping and ensconcing his body until only his head is left open to the air, and there’s so much relief. Like a blanket, it covers them both, stretching over the fortress of Eddie’s body. His muscles go lax, all features soft, and it thinks to itself that it may adore more in this sort of moment than any other. </p>
<p>He pressed their hand to his lips as the symbiote holds him, his breath damp and warm against the cool slick of its makeshift skin.</p>
<p>For a while, they simply breathe. Eddie’s eyelids flutter some time after, and he yawns before curling comfortably on his side with his arm pillowing his head. </p>
<p>It wants to cement this picture, stitch it thread by thread, so it can never lose this again. It roils in his chest, tasting his strong heartbeat, aglow with sentiment and melting into the comfort of his proximity. Everything feels too small and too big. </p>
<p>And in its smallness and its enormity both, in the quiet space of their shared consciousness, before he drifts under the veil of sleep, it echoes. </p>
<p><b><i>Missed you too, Eddie</i></b>.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Symbruary Day 5 - Bonded Form</p><p>If you're looking for more, please consider reading and supporting other creators at the <a href="symbruary.tumblr.com">symbruary tumblr</a>. </p><p>(say nice things?)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Day 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Eddie’s POV</p><p>This snippet takes place somewhere within Lethal Protector.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Over the course of the night, we talk about everything. </p><p>For my Other, it’s easy to digest my memories. It extrapolates by sharing my moods and sighs and heartbeats. But tonight, it has a sweet tooth for my colorful, delectable words. Wants to lick up and savor every crumb. </p><p>It is another experience entirely to speak so freely to it. Out in the open without reservation.</p><p>Strangely, it doesn’t quite reciprocate the act, even when I offer generously by posing queries of my own. The Other shrinks away, self-consciously with indecision, and I do not pry. I can wait. I don’t want to betray that feeling.</p><p>We walk past the bridge, the sea breeze ruffling my hair, and in response, my Other holds me tighter by staving off the chill and rumbling warmth into my flesh. I breathe my thanks.</p><p>I tell it about my life, my career, my aspirations. </p><p>Slowly, gradually, the conversations shifts intimately, uncomfortably; my Other is quizzical and it gently probes at the rusty, iron lock of my head and heart, one I keep tightly bound. My chest collapses when I speak, and I am clawing at the walls that surround my head as I seek communion in words. In lieu of my roiling thoughts, I close my mouth and simply shrug, because it’s difficult to talk about, but my Other waits, patient as always. </p><p>It’s curious about my family. </p><p>About my <i>father</i>.</p><p>About my parents who loved each other and who tried to love me. </p><p>But as an object of love, I have always failed. </p><p>Even with the people who gave birth to me. </p><p>Suddenly, there’s not enough air in my lungs. My chest feels too tight. I struggle to squash it down but a strike of thunder quakes through my heart, and it’s as though I’m dangling over the edge of a precipice.</p><p>No, I’m careening.</p><p>In the sudden spout of loneliness, I miserably reach for the closeness of my Other, wrapping and folding myself in its embrace. It’s already waiting for me, squeezing with the same desperation, reassuringly, and there’s suddenly ground beneath my feet.</p><p><b><i>Love</i></b>.</p><p>The Other soothes my near-choking frailty and sops down my hand, fondly filling up the empty spots between each finger. </p><p>For once, I am held too tightly in a grasp. But in my Other’s grasp, it feels like safety. </p><p>It feels like a home.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Symbruary Day 9 - Family</p><p>I decided to post more of the prompts I had tackled. </p><p>(Out of all of them, this one’s my favorite)</p><p>Thank you for reading, and please show your support for other creators at the <a href="symbruary.tumblr.com">symbruary tumblr</a>.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Day 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“It’s astounding, isn’t it?”</p><p>The Other slinks its mass between the empty space of Eddie’s fingers until they entwine, and their gazes meet. Its is questioning and soft, and Eddie’s is smoldering and triumphant. It caresses skin that is calloused and warm, and his voice echoes with awe.</p><p>“Every limb attached to my body reaches a point, but you’re unending. A powerful stretch of the night, yet I can feel you delicately knit and stitch into each and every one my nerve endings.” </p><p>There is a moment of vulnerable stillness, like watching quiet water through glass. The symbiote sprawls out the rest of itself to encompass the fortress of his body; it swathes his torso, biceps, legs--there’s so much of him to hold! </p><p>Eddie continues to muse, flexing his fingers to measure the give and pull of their tendons, “A strength like this-- it should tear a man apart from the inside out, shouldn’t it?”</p><p>Content with being rocked by the gentle rhythm of Eddie’s breathing, the symbiote sinks into the feeling. Rising and falling, rising and falling. It folds into his warmth, welcoming their synchronization to fill and grow through every molecule.  </p><p>“Even here,” Eddie’s hand comes up to touch at the symbol embellished to their chest, fingertips gentle and tracing over his heart. “I didn’t think I would…at least not so easily, or so intensely--I could ever feel so...,” his mind mulls over the word, testing the sound of it in his thoughts. </p><p><i>In love</i>. </p><p>His heart is hammering, and the Other pushes back almost fearfully in the effort to just relax. As inexperienced as it is with love, everything in the symbiote implores it to prostrate and bare itself to the emotion. To do everything it can to keep his, too. </p><p>“It’s you. With you, I feel like I can do anything.”</p><p>A reverent smile tugs at his lips.  </p><p>Eddie’s tone is all certainty, hollowing deep in his lungs. The symbiote mirrors it, <b><i>You always could</i></b>.</p><p>“Not without you,” he answers honestly. The Other finds itself seizing, squeezing his ribs, unwilling to miss a word. </p><p>“You’re amazing. Nothing could make me not want to be with you.” Eddie affirms with a slow nod, “nothing.”</p><p>Emboldened by the love they created with their hands, pride burns and razes over them both. There’s nothing either of them yearns for more than to hold each other there, for good. </p><p>Forever.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Symbruary Day 17 - Sharing a Body</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Symbruary Day 5 - Bonded Form </p><p>If you’re looking for more, please read and support prompts from other wonderful creators at the <a href="%E2%80%9Csymbruary.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D">symbruary tumblr</a></p><p>(say nice things, please?)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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